Elanora's Alternate Reality
by Elanora Chabere
Summary: Original Fiction set in the Wheel of Time world. An alternate reality for the main character of my other story.


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This is an original story set in the world of Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time. To see the true story of Elanora's life, read my other fiction, Elanora's Story , on this site. It's still in the process of being written but you'll find some common threads.

The Lady Elanora adjusted her newest gown, the one that was the ice blue color of the flowers that had decorated the last ball. She'd ordered it from the seamstress the following morning after she'd heard Lord Madic say that he liked the color. She looked around, waiting for him to appear. She'd found a nice little out-of-the-way spot in one of the palace hallways in which to loiter, waiting for him to walk by on his way from the meeting with the High Lords. Her father, High Lord Chabere, had mentioned at the dinner table last evening that Lord Madic would be appearing before them to report on the Defenders' readiness as he did every month.

Elanora smoothed the folds of the silk down with nervous hands. She checked her reflection again in the mirror in the alcove. Long dark hair piled high on her head in the latest style, elaborately woven with jeweled pins in the shapes of flowers, shone above blue-gray eyes. She brushed her hand across her forehead, hoping that the headache she'd had for the last several days wasn't coming back. For just an instant she had a feeling that she shouldn't be here, a hunted feeling at being in the Stone; that instead of silks, she should be in armor. She shook her head slightly to clear the idea. As the sound of booted feet rang out, she pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to bring the color into them just before she stepped out into the hallway.

Madic turned from the man he was speaking with as she appeared. At her deep curtsey to him, he waved the man away, saying "We'll speak of this later, Commander del Shire." He turned back suddenly. "And thank you, Alundra, for backing me at the meeting earlier. I appreciate your confidence that my plan to defeat those Illianer scum will succeed." Madic turned to Elanora and made an elegant bow. "Greetings, Lady Elanora," he smiled at her. "How are you?"

Elanora dimpled fetchingly at Madic. "Why, Lord Madic, what a surprise to meet you here." Madic looked at her, arching an eyebrow. "Is it now?" he said. She blushed as she gazed at him, trying not to allow her chagrin at being so easily found out show in her face. Elanora's eyes searched desperately for something else to focus on so that she wouldn't have to look at the knowing smile on his face. She glanced at the servants walking down the corridor towards them, two of them, one slightly behind the other. The first one was carrying quite a heavy load of linens while the second carried something, probably a message, in only one hand.

Elanora's eyes flew back to Madic's face. She suddenly couldn't remember the carefully planned speech that she'd rehearsed to let him know that she admired him greatly. As she stumbled over the words, her eyes slid over the servants passing them. Suddenly she saw the second man raise a hand over Madic's back, metal glinting. "No!" she shouted, and raised a hand, turning it as she did so. She felt a jolt inside her as something seemed to settle into place and then a snap as the bones in the man's arm were broken by a force that she somehow knew came from her even if she didn't know how. At the sound of her cry, Madic's sword was out and took the grey man through the chest even as the flows broke the arm with the dagger. At the sound of the bones shattering, Madic's eyes flew to Elanora's face. The last thing that Elanora remembered before fainting was the look of repugnance on Madic's face as he said "A channeler!"

Elanora's first months at the White Tower were filled with back-breakingly hard work. Her parents had bundled her out of Tear as fast as they could with a story of going away to study. It was implied that she'd be studying at the great Library in Cairhien. Elanora wasn't sure who had believed the tale and who hadn't but she was glad to have been out of the city before any rumors had started.

It wasn't until she'd learned to set a light ball with hardly a second thought and finally been able to stop doing the extra chores that were supposed to teach her not to answer back to Accepteds and Aes Sedai as if she were still the Lady Elanora speaking to a servant, that she was willing to spend any of her precious spare time other than simply resting. Once she felt a little more confident, she began to explore the Tower environs. While her first love had always been reading and the Tower library was second only to the one in Cairhien, she found herself strangely drawn to the Gaidin yard.

While Elanora had never been averse to considering the merits of a smoothly-muscled torso or a well-muscled calf, those were only secondary to what caught her attention at the practice Yard. She carefully watched the Gaidin and their students as they worked the forms under the watchful eye of Coulin and his second, Janarc Gaidin. Usually Janarc saw the Tower women as a distraction to the men who were training but something about Elanora caught his eye. Janarc had an eye for the ladies, he'd be the first to admit, but this one, while presentable, wasn't so pretty that she'd have caught his eye. She was too young, for one thing. Janarc liked his women a little more experienced than just out of the schoolroom. This one was still very young and a fledgling Novice to boot. An Aes Sedai or an occasional Accepted were fair game but usually Janarc found his women outside the Tower.

It had taken Janarc a while to discover what it was about her. For a long while, he hadn't even known that it was her that was giving him that uneasy feeling. All he'd known was that sometimes when there were women present, he'd get the feeling that he should be watching his back more carefully. It had taken two or three weeks for him to discover who it was that was giving him that sensation. He'd been going over and over a form with one of the students that he had, a ham-fisted farmboy named Taikor who was having trouble with the move. Even with Taikor standing next to him and Janarc stepping through it in slow motion for Taikor to follow, the young applicant still couldn't get it right. But when Janarc had seen her shoulders drop and her feet widen their stance to position themselves just under her shoulders as she subtly swayed in the movements of the form, he'd known. And from that point on, he'd stood where she could always be seen by him, even if only out of the corner of his eye, while she was at the yard. 

Janarc couldn't decide what it was that made him choose the perilous path that he did. He knew that if Argayle or the other senior Gaidins were to discover it that he'd be in for a rough road. But that would be nothing compared to what would happen if the Aes Sedai were to find out. What they'd have to say about it, or worse yet, to do about it, he had no idea. He also knew that he didn't want to find out. Janarc had rolled this course of action over several times in his mind, trying to talk himself out of what he knew would be certain disaster if he and Elanora were found out. More than once, he'd decided that the risk was too great. Yet somehow he always found himself back at the yard, rolling a set of practice lathes and padded clothing into a pack and riding out to the plains west of Tar Valon to teach Elanora to fight. For a girl who'd been raised in a lord's home and who was now a Novice, she'd learned the basics with amazing rapidity. Even for some of the forms, Janarc had shown her only the beginning and she'd flowed into the completion of them as naturally as if she'd been practicing them for years.

On the day that Janarc died, they'd been out practicing yet again. Janarc was pleased with Elanora's progress. Somewhere in her, he knew that there was the ability to be a warrior and a fine one. He'd said the first and only thing that he'd say to her to move her in that direction. "Elanora, I know that it's early days yet for you to decide which Ajah you want. But you know, lass, you could belong to the Greens easily. Make sure you choose good warders though – men who can protect you and who you believe in enough to sell your own life for. I don't believe there are many men who'd be worthy of that kind of trust. Watch for them carefully and when you find them, start to draw them to you. Don't wait until you need to bond to start looking. It's too late by then to build that sort of trust."

Her blue-gray eyes raised to his for an instant before she replied " Yes, Janarc Gaidin," turning away to place the lathes back into their roll. He wondered at the sudden formality since over the months that he'd been putting her through the forms, they'd moved to Ela and Jan. It had seemed natural at the time just as teaching her had been. Sometimes when they'd planned to meet and he was waiting for her, he almost expected to hear her calling "Janny!" as she walked down the path towards him.

A movement in the trees and a sudden glint of sunlight on metal caught his eye. "Ela," he said, "get on your horse now. Do exactly as I tell you. Listen carefully now, lass. Walk the horse back towards the road. Don't do anything until I say but WHEN I say, get that Light-forsworn horse inside the Walls as fast as you can move him." "But Jan," she started to say until his voice cut across hers, "Ela, just do this for me. Find Argayle Gaidin and tell him that there are Cloaks out here. Lots of them. Tell him to alert all the guards. And lass," his voice softened, "find yourself those Warders. Now ride, lass, the Gaidin need you to warn them. RIDE!" 

Elanora found herself bundled into the Novice Quarters with the rest of the novices under the watchful eye of Kennira, the Novice Mistress, after she'd reported to Argayle. He'd put her through the story twice. She'd told him what had happened and that Janarc had ridden south as she bolted for Tar Valon, drawing the Whitecloaks after him and buying her the extra time to get within the walls. He hadn't asked her what they were doing but she'd implied that they were out familiarizing her with the area. Elanora thought that Argayle had looked pointedly at her but he'd let it slide. It wasn't until she was halfway up the spiral staircase to her quarters that she realised she'd pulled the bundle off the horse when she'd rode in and that the ends of the practice lathes were protruding from the roll. She was certain that Argayle Gaidin hadn't missed that detail.

The sounds of fighting outside the Quarters grew louder as steel rang on steel and raised voices shouted instructions. Elanora wanted to be out healing and giving what assistance she could but Kennira had told the Novices firmly that they would only be a distraction and a hindrance. When the crash of a weapon against the door came, Elanora could stand it no longer. Grasping the Source and holding herself ready, she cautiously opened the door a fraction, ready to slam it closed again. "Light-burned fool girl, close that door!" Janarc shouted at her. She followed his directions swiftly. "Bloody flaming…" Janarc trailed off as he turned another Whitecloak's sword with his axe, "You're supposed to stay inside with the rest, lass. Not be out here with me. You know what I meant! " 

"Yes, Jan, I know." Elanora began the weaves that would take care of the worst of his wounds. Janarc sighed with relief as he felt the Healing then straightened again at the sight of more sunburst cloaks pounding up the staircase. Bending quickly, he tugged the sword free of the grasp of the dead man at his feet and tossed it to Elanora. She fielded it with a grin and turned to face the Whitecloaks, positioning herself on his right, just beyond the reach of Janarc's axe and taking into account his left-handed preference. Janarc shook his head. "How does she know these things I never taught her?" he wondered for just an instant before stepping forward to meet the onslaught. When he had time to catch his breath again, he looked at Elanora. A few wounds were evident but two men lay unmoving at her feet. She paled a little when she looked down at the bodies but didn't flinch. She grinned at him once more and moving swiftly to his side, took his head in her hands. "Janny, I'm so sorry," she whispered. Janarc felt the familiar sense of weaves surrounding him but this time they were in his head and his gut and his heart in a way that Healing had never been.

Bonded. The lass had just bonded him. The descriptions of the other Warders came back to him now, the feelings that they said they had of another consciousness hovering just at the edge of their own. "I trust you, Janarc Gaidin," she said, her gaze meeting his. "Now let's kill some Cloaks." Janarc looked down the staircase at the men approaching and shook his head. Touching her cheek gently, he said, "Remember me, Ela." Moving forward into the group of the Cloaks, he took down three before the first blow touched him. Elanora ran forward into the melee, fighting her way towards him. As Janarc went down, he could see Elanora standing over him and heard the commander of the Children say, "A witch with a sword. This one is mine." One of the Whitecloaks nodded at the Hundredman with the cold cobalt eyes and blond beard, acknowledging the order and stepped back to give him a clear approach. Janarc saw Herron raise his claymore over Elanora and bring it down as Janarc's eyes closed for the final time.


End file.
